


Honey

by galaxymir



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff, Minor Angst, Rain, Reunion, Song fic?, lots of kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 15:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11534757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxymir/pseuds/galaxymir
Summary: I owe you apologiesAnd I miss synchronicitySo if you can make peace with meWe can take it from there'cause your body tastes likehoney...





	Honey

**Author's Note:**

> another short drabble
> 
> highly recommend that you listen to the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HCXW-Wbfn4U) as you read  
> it goes together perfectly!
> 
> enjoy! <3

 

**+**

  Months of nothing and suddenly, she’s here.

  She appears to be in good shape even with soaked clothes.

  A chuckle comes after a low rumble of thunder. “Weather still sucks in the city.”

  She then threads her fingers through her short, damp hair, pushing it all back so that her face can be seen. Her eyes sparkle, golden and warm, and she smiles, bringing Historia to frown.

  “Did you miss me?” she asks.

  A flash of lightning and a whistle of wind seems to answer her question.

  Historia goes to close the door but a foot is jammed in between.

  “ _Ymir…_ ” she hisses.

  The brunette shakes her head, her eyes now glowing with determination.

  “I’m not going anywhere. You can't push me away.”

  And Historia hears these stern words clearly. Her heart aches and her insides flutter.

_I can’t let her in again._

  “Open up, please,” Ymir huffs. “I want to talk. We need to talk.” She ignores the pain her foot feels by clenching her teeth.

  _Damn these sneakers._

  Historia needs time to evaluate her options. But she isn’t given the chance. The door is forced open and Ymir is now inside of her home.

  They’re face to face, chest to chest, and she doesn’t know what to do.

  “I missed you,” Ymir whispers. Water drips from her and to the hardwood floor but she doesn’t care. When her cold hands find Historia’s face, she sighs. “I’m sorry for leaving. I should’ve taken you with me,”

  Historia’s breathing goes unsteady. She’s not in awe by the other’s words. She in awe by the tears in her eyes.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry. O–Or make you feel like you didn’t matter. I was stupid and I’m sorry,” Ymir rests her forehead against hers, sniffling softly as she did so. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

  Historia closes her eyes to hold back the tears that want to fall. She can’t show the hurt. She can’t give Ymir what she wants. But as much as she wants to turn away, she wants to stay like this. She wants to feel Ymir’s breath against her lips. She wants to stay in the presence of her warmth. She wants to hear the sound of her wild heart.

  She shudders out a sob, her body finally giving in. Her head is buried into her chest and her arms find a way around her waist, locking her in so that they could be close.

  “D–Don’t do it again. Please don’t...don’t leave me.” she cries.

  Ymir places kisses all over the top of Historia’s head before nestling her face into the crook of her neck.

  She says she won’t, she says she’ll stay.

  Historia hopes that her words are true.

  They cry together like the clouds outside and when they find their eyes running dry, they pull apart.

  There’s silence and rain then there’s the sound of heavy, desperate pants as they began to shower each other with much-needed kisses.

  With every kiss, a story was told. A story of longing, a story of sadness, a story of lost hope. Then once their lips settle and stay on each other, all sense of pain and heartbreak melts away. They continue mold together and intended to remain this way. Unfortunately, after another clash of lightning outside, the power within Historia’s home goes out, putting them in a heavy darkness. They completely pull away from each other.

  “It’s dark,” Ymir says.

  “I know,” Historia whispers.

  They put together a plan to bring light back into the place.

  “Hange gave me a bunch of these yesterday,” Historia says from where she stands in the hall closet, the plastic containers of scented candles in hand. “Lavender or vanilla?”

  Ymir is too busy trying to dry herself off to choose. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

  They then set up camp in the living room since it’s too dark upstairs. With blankets and pillows to work with, a pallet is made on the floor, right beside the fireplace.

  Ymir manages to get some fresh clothes to wear after taking the trip up to Historia’s bedroom.

  “You still have all my stuff?” She brings the dry set of clothing to her nose, inhaling the aroma of home.

  Historia pulls her knees into her chest and locks her arms around them. “I didn’t have the guts to toss anything out. I couldn’t lose you completely.”

  She watches as Ymir undresses and places her damp clothing right by the fire. When she notices a dark blemish under the woman’s right breast, she furrows her brows.

  “What’s that?”

  Ymir looks up then looks down at the spot on her body Historia is focused on. She smiles softly.

  “A tattoo.” she simply says.

  Historia narrows her eyes. “When did you do that? You hate tattoos…”

  Ymir only throws the tank top over her head, putting it on to hide her freckled skin. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Her response causes Historia to rise up to her knees.

  “I haven’t seen you in three months!” she quietly exclaims. “At least you could give me the chance to get to know you again.”

  Ymir pulls on a pair of sweats and plops down beside the blonde.

  “Calm down, firecracker,” she murmurs. She leans over and presses a gentle kiss to her temple. “Let me get to know you first.”

  Historia grumbles about the unfairness of the situation as she is pushed back onto her behind and then onto her back.

  “Do you forgive me?” Ymir hovers above, her elbows holding her up and her hands in Historia’s hair.

  Historia searches the woman’s face, studying the way she looks. Then she answers.

  “Yes, but I’m never going to forget.”

  Ymir remains neutral. She nods. “I don’t blame you.”

  Another clap of lightning.

  In the corner of Historia’s eyes, she can see the little flames flicker and dance on the coffee table beside them. The light that they cast onto their bodies is kind, sweet and mellow.

  Ymir is sweet and mellow with the kisses that she gives to her neck and jaw.

  “Do you still hang...with the Jaeger clan?” she asks in between her loving.

  Historia sucks in a breath. “No...I kind of told them to...fuck off.”

  Ymir stops and holds herself up again. “Why?” She’s concerned, her thick brows drawn together.

  “Because they were on my back. They never allowed me to breathe.”

  Ymir leans down and pecks her lips. “They care. That’s why. You’re like their little sister. You said so yourself.”

  Because of the truth in Ymir’s words, Historia groans. She feels bad for pushing her only family away.

  “Well, I was upset, depressed...I didn’t want them around to see me act shitty.”

  Ymir apologizes. She doesn’t have to explain why, though. She kisses Historia again before another question.

  “Did you wait for me?”

  Historia knows what she’s asking. She looks to the candles. She watches them flitter and gleam before closing her eyes.

  “A kiss. It was a gross one.” Her voice is hushed. “I don’t know what made me do it.”

  Ymir doesn’t move an inch. She only stares.

  “Who was it?”

  Historia doesn’t hesitate. “Remember Hitch? Jean’s ex?”

  She doesn’t have to say a thing more.

  Ymir snickers and goes to sit up and straddle Historia’s hips. “You have to be fucking with me.”

  Historia covers her face to hide her embarrassment while Ymir continues to roar with laughter.

  “ _Hitch?_ Of all people, _her?_ Jean said she kisses like a fish!”

  “I know, I know. Stop laughing at me!” Historia whines.

  Ymir quickly composes herself because she doesn't want to humiliate her girl any longer. She proceeds to remove the shirt she had just put on and clears her throat afterward, giving light taps the side of Historia’s head. “Hey, look at me, baby.”

  Historia brings one hand down and then the other. She has seen the other like this many times before. But for some reason, on this night, in this room, things were different.

  “It’s a honey bee,” Ymir points to the simple but lovely piece of art.

  Historia adores it. She admires the precious work done on Ymir’s pretty skin.

  Her eyes cut up to hers.

  “Why a honey bee?”

  Ymir looks away for a second before looking back with a charming smile.

  “Remember when we first started going out? You were always at my house and I was always at yours?”

  Historia nods.

  “You got drunk at your birthday party that year and I brought you home. I had to help you with your bath because Jesus Christ, you were clingy,”

  Historia remembers bits and piece of that exciting night. She remembers how beautiful Ymir’s laughter was, how wonderful it felt to be in her arms.

  “You kept going on and on about my eyes, trying to be all poetic and artsy with your words,” Ymir takes Historia’s hands into her own, placing them against her chest and over her breasts. “Then you said something about me being like honey and how you were like a bee. You said that you were addicted. So on the day that I left, I asked the guys to make a quick stop at a parlor downtown. Got it done, just like that. You've always been with me since then.”

  Historia blinks. Her heart begins to pound and her eyes well up.

  Ymir watches her. She acknowledges the rosiness of her cheeks and the trembling of her lip.

  “If I would’ve just brought you along on that crappy trip, I would’ve saved fifty bucks and some tears,” Her smile grows brighter as Historia begins to cry again. “And you would’ve had your honey all along.”

  Historia sadly laughs. “Shut up.”

  She sits up and ignores her tears. Her hands move down, spreading more love all throughout Ymir’s body. Her fingers graze the new marking that she now loves and once she has a hold on Ymir’s hips, she grins.

  “I hate you. For making my life difficult in the most sweetest way.” After these words, she presses a series of firm kisses in between Ymir’s breasts.

  The brunette’s breath hitches before a chuckle leaves her lips. She plays with her girl’s hair, watching as she loves on her.

  “I know, baby,” she coos. “I know you do.”

**+**

 


End file.
